Mysteries of Police and Crime, Vol. 1 (of 3) — John Shaqi
Mysteries of Police and Crime, Vol. 1 (of 3)Griffiths, Arthur
History
Mysteries of Police and Crime, Vol. 1 (of 3)
Griffiths, Arthur
Crime; Police
Yet the incontestable fact remains, unsatisfactory and disquieting, that
many murder mysteries have baffled all inquiry, and that the long list
of undiscovered crimes is continually receiving mysterious additions. An
erroneous impression, however, prevails that such failures are more
common in Great Britain than elsewhere. No doubt the British police are
greatly handicapped by the law's limitations, which in England always
act in protecting the accused. But with all their advantages, the power
to make arrests on suspicion, to interrogate the accused parties and
force on self-incrimination, the Continental police meet with many
rebuffs. Numbers of cases are "classed," as it is officially called in
Paris--that is, pigeon-holed for ever and a day, lacking sufficient
proofs for trial, and in some instances, indeed, there is no clue
whatever. In every country, and in all times, past and present, there
have been crimes that defied detection.
Feuerbach, in his record of criminal trials in Bavaria, tells, for
example, of the unsolved murder mystery of one Rupprecht, a notorious
usurer of Munich, who was killed in 1817 in the doorway of a public
tavern not fifty yards from his own residence. Yet his murderer was
never discovered. The tavern was called the "hell"; it was a place of
evil resort, for Rupprecht, a mean, parsimonious old curmudgeon, was
fond of low company and spent most of his nights here, swallowing beer
and cracking jokes with his friends. One night the landlord, returning
from his cellar, heard a voice in the street asking for Rupprecht, and,
going up to the drinking saloon, conveyed the message. Rupprecht went
down to see his visitor and never returned. Within a minute deep groans
were heard as of a person in a fit or in extreme pain. All rushed
downstairs and found the old man lying in a pool of blood just inside
the front door. There was a gaping wound in his head, but he was not
unconscious, and kept repeating, "Wicked rogue! wicked villain! the axe!
the axe!"
[Illustration: "FOUND THE OLD MAN LYING IN A POOL OF BLOOD."]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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